


Friends, Politics, and Proposals

by kitsunerei88



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce, Tricksters - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 03:32:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6548884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsunerei88/pseuds/kitsunerei88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At thirteen, Dove dealt with rebellion. At seventeen, she deals with proposals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends, Politics, and Proposals

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Idlesse at Glake for the Wishing Tree 2015 - prompt was "Dove and Taybur friendship".

Dove sighed, setting her quill primly in its inkstand. She rubbed at her temples, listening to the sound of Aly and Taybur arguing across her desk. They were like birds, she thought wearily. Aly, a bright squawking, orange and copper finch, and Taybur, the sombre, dark raven.

 

“Absolutely _not_ the Obelitens,” Taybur snapped. “They let their youngest son live in the Palace on the request of Imajane and Rubinyan – no courage or wit, none at all.”

 

Aly let out an aggravated sigh. “I grant they aren’t exactly known for being especially brave or intelligent, but, with the exception of Lady Ankoret, they weren’t part of the rebellion and it would solidify Dove’s rule. And you don’t like any of the families that have sent their sons here or put in offers anyway.  Leon Obeliten is not an entirely bad option – certainly too risky to decline outright.”

 

Dove held up her hand as Taybur opened his mouth to respond. “Enough, both of you,” she said dryly. “I’ll think on it, but I’m _seventeen_ , and I have a headache.”  She stood from her chair, stretched, and swept from the chamber, enjoying the feel of heavy gold droplets swinging from her earlobes. It was a reminder of her status, yet it was that much easier to carry around than the ridiculously ornate Crown of the Copper Isles.

 

She was only seventeen, and had four years already as Queen. In some ways, she mused, she missed those first few years. They were still cleaning up the last of the Rittevon and Jimajen holdouts, and the rest of the Isles were flush with success at the raka victory, and she had been really too young to be considered for marriage anyway. Now, four years on, they were settling into the far more mundane problems of peaceful life. And things somehow became much more … political.

 

One would think that, four years on, Dove had shown herself capable of rule by anyone’s standards. And yet, since she turned sixteen, it seemed as though almost half her nobles and most of their foreign allies had forgotten that. She didn’t need a King to help her rule, and the positioning for such was enough to make her grind her teeth. 

 

It took a moment or two for Dove to hear the soft patting of feet following her down the hallway. She sighed again, letting Taybur catch up with her. She wasn’t permitted to go anywhere without a guard, she remembered ruefully, even in her own Palace; four years on, there was still the risk of an assassination attempt. Of all of her guards, she admitted she liked Taybur the best. He was serious, but friendly enough, and they could walk down the halls as if they were friends and not simply because he was her chief bodyguard.

 

He offered her his arm chivalrously, and let her lead the way. She was only heading to her personal chambers, not a lengthy walk by any means, but security meant security.

 

“Aly’s gone home to Master Crow and the triplets,” he offered mildly. “She asked I pass on her apologies, but recommends that we continue … considering the Obeliten offer.”

 

Dove didn’t need to look at Taybur to know that they were not seriously considering the Obeliten offer. The difficulty with the Obelitens was, of course, that they weren’t, for the most part, part of the raka conspiracy. They also were not strong supporters of the previous rulers, and were neutral enough to survive afterwards – they were incredibly wealthy, and could bring a lot of good to the poorer outlying regions. But Leon Obeliten was also not exactly ideal – he was a fool, which would make him easier for her to control, but could also make her rule seem weaker. The Obelitens were just powerful and dangerous enough to cause problems if she gave offense, but not a good choice overall. She would have to wait for an opportune moment, politically, or for Aly to dig up a scandalous reason for why the Obelitens were unsuitable, before they rejected the proposal.

 

It took her only a second to understand the situation and accept it. This was her reality, as Queen of the Copper Isles – and even if the raka conspirators initial plans followed through, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Dove was never going to marry for love, not the way that Aly did, not the way that the women in Aly’s stories did, and the sooner she accepted that as fact, the better it would be.

 

“Of course,” she replied simply, pausing at the doors to her rooms. “I understand. I would just … I’d like some time alone now, please.”

 

Taybur nodded slowly, turning to face her. “We’ll figure it out, Dove,” he said kindly, patting her on the shoulder. “I, for one, won’t let you marry anyone who doesn’t genuinely care about you. Or who would ruin the country.”

 

Dove smiled up at him, a soft half-smile. “Thank you, Taybur.”

**Author's Note:**

> What was I thinking? I don't know what I was thinking. But now my headcanon is Aly and Taybur finding political ways to save Dove from bad marriage proposals forever. Also not my best work... this almost feels like the beginning to some entertaining longer romantic plotline that I am not qualified to write.


End file.
